


And They Were Roommates...

by discooperator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, expect things to get wild and saucy, i plan on adding tags as i update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 18:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discooperator/pseuds/discooperator
Summary: A collection of short works detailing Ratchet's "Party Ambulance" days in med school, and how he frequently dragged his roommate, Pharma, into his life of debauchery.





	And They Were Roommates...

Ratchet wanted to be angry at the Medical Academy's residential office for assigning him a roommate that was two years behind him and had a perpetual pole up his aft, but he loved a good challenge. 

When Pharma stepped into their dorm, box of personal belongings tucked under one arm, staring down the length of his nose at the stuffy little room, Ratchet immediately jumped up to greet him like they were long-lost buddies.

"Pharma, right? Looks like you're stuck with me for the year! Welcome to paradise!" He gestured towards the room, with its pathetically small window and identical twin set of recharge slabs, desks, chairs, and shelving space. It didn't exactly look like paradise. In fact, it looked kind of soul-sucking.

Pharma scoffed in lieu of a greeting, tiptoed around Ratchet without even asking his name, and began examining his half of the room.

Trying to shrug off his new roommate's uptight-ness, Ratchet made a second attempt at conversation. "I assume my reputation precedes me?"

His "reputation" being that he loved getting absolutely hammered, and had probably fragged at least a quarter of the bots in the Academy. He hadn't been kicked out yet because he was exceptionally good at not getting caught by anyone with any authority, even though the rumors and gossip should have been proof enough. 

Pharma was fuming at the mere concept of being stuck within the vicinity of _that_ for an entire year. He knew the entry-level students tended to have poor luck with roommates, but _this_? This was truly something else.

The jet's wings tensed, flicking slightly. He had set his box of belongings down on his desk, and was slowly removing little trinkets from it. He then froze, a small plaque in hand, and said, "I tried to change rooms, but they said my application was late. I never turn in anything late."

"Ah," Ratchet said flatly. "System error, maybe?"

Another flick of the wings as Pharma considered how to respond, if at all. Then, whirling around to face the shorter mech, bright blue servos on his hips, a look of pure rage and disdain in his blazing blue optics, he declared, "They probably stuck me with you on purpose. You're absolutely incorrigible, from what I've heard, so perhaps the dunces that run this show thought shoving someone as studious and intelligent as I am in a room with your sorry aft would make you rethink your choices and shape up, because _apparently_ you have _potential_."

Ratchet huffed incredulously, trying not to laugh at the sheer display of _drama_ he had just been faced with. He knew that on some level all fliers were drama queens, it must come with the wings, but that exchange alone could have rivaled the attitude of someone like Starscream from the Science Academy. This jet was a real piece of work. A challenge, indeed.

Ratchet figured it would take three weeks to get him to loosen up. Maybe less, if he tried extra hard. 

After watching Pharma finish unpacking his things and immediately begin studying, Ratchet decided it would be his personal goal.

He didn't try initiating conversation with the jet again, instead opting to wait for him to make a leading remark, but hours passed and it never happened. Ratchet was trapped in his own room with a stereotype. A combination of two stereotypes, actually. Typical haughty, over-dramatic flier and typical hyper-intelligent nerd. Pharma was a nerd. And probably and aft-kisser, too.

If he wasn't such a nerd he might've been attractive.

This was when Ratchet realized he had been staring at his roommate.

Well, he mostly realized because Pharma had started staring back.

Pharma had looked up from his datapad to see his roommate, the so-called infamous "Party Ambulance," staring at him with the most intense, thoughtful, and... disgruntled... look he had ever seen. If put under an oath and sworn to tell the truth, he would have admitted that the look was quite becoming of him. It almost made him look attractive.

But Pharma was not under any oath. He returned the gaze for a few kliks, squawked at Ratchet to stop staring at him "like a lunatic," and returned to his reading.

_Two and a half weeks_ , Ratchet thought. _This won't be difficult at all._

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published tf fic, so apologies if anything seems a little off, I'm still getting into the swing of it! I plan on running this on an "I'll add to it when I feel like it" schedule, and I may double back now and then to do some editing. Gonna try to keep it real loosey-goosey; feedback is always very much appreciated <3<3<3


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